Crazy He Calls Me
by Zamelot
Summary: It was one thing to obsessively clean her locker, but another to ask for a new one. And it was one matter for her therapist to shout 'Shut up, Hannya' in the middle of a session, but a whole other to fall in love with him. Companion fic to G.Anachronism


_Ame is currently in a slump. A depression that's been lasting for a bit. Rawr. The reasons in her non existant updating, however, lie in the fact that most of her upcoming fics are meant to be oneshots and are incomplete. One has been ongoing since October of '06. Plus school is stressful. SATS... ACTS... AP tests... bleh. This was actually written last October on John Lennon's birthday. Incomplete and originally intended to be a oneshot. Here we go.

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_Crazy He Calls Me_

_Studies show  
Intelligent girls are more depressed because they know  
That the world can lie  
I don't think for a bit they sit around and think every thing's gonna be  
Alright.  
They know who: sides, shadows, shapes, a devil, an angel  
No in between.  
She speaks in the third person so she. can't. forget. that. she's  
Me.  
-_**Opheliac**

"That cannot be done, Makimachi,"

Misao, who had been seated in the faded corduroy seat for the last 45 minutes, her legs crossed, and her foot shaking at a faster pace then usual, tore the end of her braid out of her mouth and jerked forward, her hands seizing the end of the principals' desk.

"Whaddya mean you can't? You have plenty of lockers! You hand them out to new students; you hand them out every year! Why can't_ I_ have a new one?"

Her principal rolled his eyes before turning his glare upon her. Unfortunately for him, she glared right back.

"_Because_, Makimachi," he drawled, his lip curling, "you already have a locker. Your homeroom teacher gave you one back in April."

Misao leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs again, and returned the end of her braid back in to her mouth. It appeared to the principal that she had yet to rest her case.

"The one I have is _disgustingl_y filthy and—and—and is impossible to keep."

The man nodded indifferently before pulling several folders out from beneath a neat pile on his desk. He pulled a red fountain pen out from his breast pocket and set his forearms on the desk as Misao folded her arms and chewed on her braid.

"Share a locker with your friends," he suggested offhandedly without looking up and thus missing her horrified expression.

"Are you _kidding_ me!" she barked. "You have _seen_ the people I hang out with right?"

"I've had them in detention more times than I care to remember,"

Misao sighed and relaxed back, defeated in the chair, her braid hanging limply over her shoulder and her black, slim fit Sleepy Time Gorilla museum tee shirt showing up in crumpled letters and symbols.

"Why won't you just give me a new locker?" she asked quietly.

"Makimachi," the principal set down his pen and placed a hand over his forehead. "You're here early in the morning to clean and organize your locker, you're late to all your classes because you clean and organize your locker, you're here _after school hours_ cleaning and organizing your locker—you keep Windex in your locker—"

"X-14,"

"Makimachi—"

"Are you suggesting that I have a problem?"

The principal hesitated then sighed before picking up his pen again. "Makimachi, the first step to over coming any problem is admitting you have one."

Misao frowned and shook her head while turning to face the left wall filled with awards and trophies for school activities. Unlike her best friend, Misao had never joined any after school clubs or sports for the sheer fact that she held no interest. It was going to cost her when she applied for college but other than that, she enjoyed her free time and often compared her self to Suzumiya Haruhi, joking to Kaoru that they should also make their own club.

"Those are your options," he snapped. "Either learn to deal with what you have now, or share with a friend."

"But isn't that against—"

"This conversation is over, whether you like it or not. Now I have work to do."

Misao's face tightened before she uncrossed her legs, leaned over the side of the chair to pick up her bag, and left the office, slamming the door behind her. She lingered outside the door a moment; her silhouette showing through the tinted door like something out of a Sam Spade film before she left; dragging her feet along.

Once he was sure was out of ear shot, the principal picked up his phone and carefully dialed a number he seemed on the verge of memorizing. He leaned his elbow against the desk, listening to the rings (there were seven) until a high-pitched female voice answered:

"Hello?"

"Yes, this is Principal Hiko; I believe we've spoken before? About Misao?"

The woman on the other line seemed to pause for a moment in a hesitant silence before responding. "We have. And my sister and I have set up an appointment like Himura-san suggested."

Hiko sighed. "That's good to hear. I'll also be expecting a report from Himura-san on it,"

The woman on the other line hesitate again before answering: "I'm sure it's nothing serious."

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_I just bought Death Note: Another Note, so that's another distraction. Song in the beginning is from Emilie Autumn as is the title. Reviews and constructive critcism will be highly appreciated and you shall be thanked most graciously from the very bottom of my black shriveled little heart. Godchild lovers mourn with me. _


End file.
